


Joker x Reader - Neighbours

by TheJokersEnigma



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Joker - Freeform, Neighbours, Oneshot, Tumblr request, joker x reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 08:08:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14256633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheJokersEnigma/pseuds/TheJokersEnigma
Summary: Managed another request today! Yay! Another lovely anon’s suggestion:‘Can u do something where the reader is 18 or so and she moves in next door to J’s house with her family and J takes a liking to her? Lol if thats okay?’





	Joker x Reader - Neighbours

_It’s rude to steal, darling._

The text box flashed up on the computer screen in front of you, covering most of the document you had been working on. You frowned at the message in confusion. That was odd. Was it some weird pop-up or ad? But you hadn’t clicked on it? And didn’t your paranoid dad bombard your computer with all that anti-virus crap though? 

You were slightly offended after all by the message’s accusing tone though. Just for fun, you thought you’d answer.

_So is hacking._

You sassed back at the computer, hitting enter and watching it now pop up below the original message, half wondering if you’d somehow just activated a scam.

You watched the cursor blink for a few moments, then another message appeared.

  _I guess we’re both in the wrong then, doll._

You frowned. That didn’t sound at all like an add.

_Who is this?_

_I’m your friendly neighbourhood clown  
_

Came the message.

_Is that supposed to be a joke?_

You typed back, slightly annoyed.

 _Life is a joke, sweetheart, I’m just here for the ride - and to push a few people overboard whilst I’m at it._

You furrowed your brow at that weird message and clicked the browser closed. If this was truly a person, then they were clearly some weird creep that you really didn’t want to talk to. You took a deep breath as you shook your head, deciding to ignore it and get on with your work.

You’d barely been focused for more than a few minutes before the text box flickered up again.

_Tut tut tut. More rudeness, doll?_

It read. You rolled your eyes at the persistence.

_I’ve been told not to talk to strangers._

You wised back, annoyed, trying to hint to him that you weren’t in the mood for whatever this was.  

_That doesn’t seemed to have stopped you so far, darling._

Came the answer, and you guessed you had to give them that.

_Everyone loves a bit of teenage rebellion._

You messaged snarkily back before closing the browser again and shutting down the computer completely. You pushed back the chair from your desk and got up. It was late anyway, probably best you called it a night and went to bed. Whoever it was would probably have got bored and given up by the morning.

 

* * *

You woke up the following day, grateful that it wasn’t thanks to your alarm blaring in your ear. You rolled over to grab your phone as usual, but, just before you could grab it, the usual chime of a message notification rang out. You picked it up, blinking tiredly as your vision swam for a moment till you focused on the screen. 1 new message. Unknown number.

You frowned, unlocking the phone.

_Morning, doll.  
_

The message read. You furrowed your brow, still confused, but a second later, your eyes widened in realisation.

Should you respond? No, of course not – you didn’t talk to strangers, you’d said so last night - especially not creepy strangers that stalked your technology. You threw the phone down on your duvet and shuffled yourself out of bed.

You tiredly scrubbed your face before getting dressed and heading downstairs for some coffee, it might be the weekend, but you had a lot of work you still needed to plough through. You returned to your room and took your regular place at your desk with a heavy sigh. You began to reach for the power button when you hesitated – what in the mystery person was still on it, waiting for you.

Just then, you heard the familiar chime of your phone again. You glanced back at where it still lay on your bed. Was it that person again? Or had he given up when you didn’t respond? What if it was one of your friends instead? What if it was an emergency or something? You needed to check.

You spun on your chair, standing up to go grab your phone. 1 new message. Unknown number. Again. You couldn’t help your eyes dropping down to read the message.

_Ignoring me now, doll?_

You stared at it for a bit, gritting your teeth. It was so tempting to respond, but you shouldn’t encourage whoever they were. You tossed the phone back down. No. They could message you as much as they liked, but you weren’t going to fall to their bait.

You sat back down, reaching for your mug and taking a sip of the scalding drink. Instead of switching on your computer though, you pulled a notepad in front of you. Despite, however, your attempt to distract yourself, the message on your phone continued to linger in your mind. You groaned out loud and spun in your chair around again, reaching for it. Damn it.

You opened up the conversation.

_Hacking phones now?_

You typed, hitting send and cursing yourself as you threw the phone back on the bed again.

Your head snapped up as the phone pinged almost immediately. You eyed it warily again, once more weighing up whether you should respond or not. You might as well… You thought, it was - in an odd way – entertaining - a bit of a change from your usual routine… After all, you could always turn off your phone if you didn’t like it – then you could tell your parents.

You reached for the phone again and spun back around on your chair, leaning back and curling your legs into your chest, resting them against the edge of your desk.

_Is that decaf or regular, doll?_

You frowned at the message on your screen. What? Your eyes flickered to the coffee on your desk and you felt something almost tighten in your chest - were they honestly asking what coffee you had? How could they possibly know what you were drinking?! You glanced at your computer screen, your mind almost immediately jumping to the idea that somehow, whoever this was, might have hacked your video camera? But your computer was switched off. Were they using your phone camera instead, then? You returned your attention to your phone, no, there was no way they could see your coffee cup through your camera phone, it was pointed at your face or your thighs.

How, then, could they possibly know about your drink then?!

_Was it just a bluff?_

You glanced back down at the phone screen.

_What do you want?_

You typed warily, not bothering to beat about the bush. You sent it off and glanced self-consciously around the room - it was impossible for there to be a camera in here, right? You’d lived in this house with your parents for nearly two months now, surely you would have noticed something?

The phone chimed again, and you dropped your gaze to it once more.

_Straight to the point, my dear. I like it._

You scowled impatiently when you waited for another message to follow this one, but nothing came.

_That’s not an answer._

You typed back, annoyed.

_Go to the window, dolly._

You read as the phone chimed once again and your heart skipped. They weren’t serious? Were they really suggesting they were outside?!

Your window looked out the side of your house and directly at your neighbours, which you had been told was empty. Owned, yes, but never occupied, not even let – like some sort of second home for a rich guy who owned ten other properties scattered the world.

That was fine by you though - what your new neighbour did was none of your business and it was probably better than being overly friendly or annoyingly mowing the lawn at two in the morning.

The thing was, unless whoever was messaging you stood directly below your window in your garden, or across the bushes in your neighbour’s garden, there was no way you would be able to see them, so what were they playing at?

You were almost scared now - this could be anyone after all – but your intrigue was also piquing and you kind of wanted to look, even though you knew you shouldn’t. You _should_ block the number, make sure you stayed in the house for the day, maybe even call the police to alert them you probably had a stalker.

But your curtains were still closed. So, you were ‘safe’ for now.

But you could peek.

You slipped your phone into your pocket for an extra measure - blocking the camera lenses from sight – then moved to the window, the heavy curtains blocking most of the late morning light. For once you praised your laziness in not having gotten around to opening them yet, and you hid to the side of them, pulling back a small amount of the material to allow yourself a slither of vision out of the window. You glanced down, scanning the parts of the gardens you could see.

There was nothing, no sign of anyone. You shifted around to try to see more of the gardens, but there was still nothing obviously different to usual.

You jumped when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket and you used your free hand to reach for it.

_Up, doll._

You felt a weight in your stomach again and reluctantly returned your gaze to the glass, but, instead of looking down at the garden again, you lifted your gaze to the window opposite your own.

The curtains were drawn, like they always were, but now a piece of paper had been stuck on one of the panes of glass.

_**I believe you have something of mine.** _

It read with a crudely painted red smiling face in the corner.

You pulled away from the curtain, letting it fall back into place. So, was this person your mysterious neighbour? If it was, their cryptid message wasn’t helping their enigmatic air - but maybe that was how they wanted it.

You returned your attention to your phone again.

_You couldn’t just text that?_

You sent to the unknown number, confused by the whole charade.

 _Surely this is more fun?_

You scowled at the message. It felt like he was playing with you. You thought back to the piece of paper in the window, pulling back the curtain once more to see it again. The phone chimed in your hand again.

_There’s the clue, darling. Now, let’s see if your smart enough to figure it out._

You read this with a frown, noticing that they had used a praying hands emoji at the end - somehow you didn't think this meant a prayer however, but instead a scheming gesture. You scowled, how on earth were you suppose to know what they meant by this message?!

You dropped the curtain again, now glancing around the room, searching your mind for whatever your apparent ‘neighbour’ meant. Suddenly your eyes snapped to your desk.

The papers.

You’d almost completely forgotten about your printer acting up the other day. You’d been lying on your bed flicking through your phone when it had suddenly chugged to life across the room from you, making you jump.

Your first thought was it was going through one of its random checks or clear-outs, but then it had sucked a piece of paper into it and begun to print. Your first thought was that your mum had just somehow accidentally sent one of her documents to your printer instead of hers.

You’d headed over to it, picking up the document that had now fallen into the tray and glancing over it out of curiosity before you took it down to your mum where she would be working in her office. However, you had paused when you had seen that there were no tables of numbers on the document, but instead, it was what appeared to a profile for somebody. The black and white photo in the top left-hand corner of the paper had showed a balding professor’s headshot, his details listed next to it – his name, age, addresses, occupation, next of kin and, below, some scribbled notes where extra information had been added or edited.

You had jumped once more as the printer chugged into life again and then watched as yet another document was slowly revealed to you. This one looked like a map - like a floor plan of a building with multiple box-like rooms. A floor of a block of offices, perhaps? Or - based on the profile you’d still had in your hand - the floor plan of a university building filled with offices?

It didn’t, however, look like anything your mother would require.

You’d picked up the map as well, studying both pieces of paper for a while until you finally made a decision, slipping both of them into the top drawer of your desk and deciding, if your mum asked after them, you would give then to her. You’d, however, had a strong feeling that this wasn’t anything to do with her, and you hadn’t been able to come up with any sane explanation as to why she would need them. You’d decided to maybe try to mention them at some point.

You had dropped several hints at the start of the week, but your mother had shown no knowledge of the papers and you’d soon forgotten about it.

Now, though, you headed slowly back to your desk, placing your phone on the top of it as you now pulled open the drawer. There they were, the papers, just where you had left them over a week ago.

You chewed on your lip as you pulled them out, running your eyes over the contents again. Was this what your ‘neighbour’ was after? You guessed it was possible - your houses were close enough to each other that their computer could likely connect to your printer accidentally and send the documents to you. Fine, you’d post it through their door and then they’d leave you alone.

You grabbed your jacket and slipped into your shoes. It momentarily crossed your mind to tell someone about this – at least tell them where you were going – but something stopped you. It was fine at the moment after all - you had it all under control, you’d just post it through next door’s letter box and come back straight away. No need to interact with anyone.

You slipped out of the house easily and made the short walk to your neighbour’s door, walking up the grass-lined path - the lawn only looking slightly overgrown from the absence of its owner - and stopped at the large front door which was nearly identical to your own apart from the slightly different shaped knocker.

You dropped your eyes to the brass door letterbox, taking a breath before lifting the flap and pushing the papers through, trying not to bend or damage them too much.

It was as you pushed the last third of the paper through, that the door was pulled open away from you. You immediately released the letter, a bright blush burning on your cheeks as you glanced up at the burly man that now stood in the doorway.

“Oh – uh – sorry.” You mumbled, embarrassed, dropping your eyes from the man’s intimidating frown. “You – uh – wanted the papers, right?” You asked. “I – uh – thought I’d just post ‘em.” You explained to his feet giving a small wave at where the paper now hung half in the door. The man suddenly stepped aside, holding the door open for you. You frowned at him in confusion.

“Boss would like to see you.” He told you, his face an emotionless mask.

“Your – uh – boss?” You questioned anxiously. So, _this_ guy wasn’t your neighbour? The man just nodded at you, still standing aside for you to enter. Should you? You glanced inside which looked to be laid out very similarly to your own house, then glanced back outside to your house.

“He insists.” The man spoked behind you, something stern in his voice which said you didn’t really have a say in the matter.

Maybe you should have told someone you were coming here.

You swallowed thickly. You didn’t really have a choice based on the cold eyes that you felt on your back, or the man’s intimidating physique which could quickly overpower you. You turned back to the man, finally lifting your gaze to his again and gave him a short, nervous nod. He nodded in return - which was the friendliest thing he’d done so far – and you stepped over the threshold. The man closed the door behind you and you glanced anxiously back, suddenly feeling very trapped.

The burly man now walked ahead of you and you could only assume you were supposed to follow, doing so as he now headed up the staircase. You trailed after him in silence until he knocked on a closed door near the back of the house. You suddenly felt ten times more nervous – and you weren’t even sure if that was physically possible.

After knocking, the man stood aside again, and you glanced between him and the door in question. When he made no attempt to explain your situation, you had to make a decision yourself and you turned back to the door, opening it and stepping in.

Your eye’s widened as you took in the office before you, your eyes lingering on the window on your right, the curtains pulled open, so the side wall of your house was visible, but also a familiar piece of paper that was stuck on one of the panes.

Your gaze now nervously edged to the centre of the room where a large dark desk stood behind which sat a pale man that watched you with apparent interest.

“Y-you’re my neighbour?” You asked in disbelief, recognising him instantly from the news and knowing your nervousness was definitely justified. A momentary thought flickered in your mind - had you just somehow aided a criminal by handing over those papers?

“It would appear so, doll…” The Joker drawled at you with a wicked grin. And you weren’t sure which question he was answering. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, I hope what I’ve done is ok? I liked the idea, so I thought I’d give it a go, but I understand it might not be exactly what the anon had in mind, so I apologise for that!


End file.
